


honey + pine green

by virtuosol



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Completed, Everyone else is the same age, F/F, biology teacher jinsoul if that's your thing, did somebody order a whirlwind romance?, hyejoo is very cool very smooth very dreamy, hyunjin best hypewoman, rom with a bit of com, what can i say i love triplet line, yerim is bratty as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuosol/pseuds/virtuosol
Summary: They blinked once; and so did she, twice, not knowing what to make of their private moment.Well, there wasonething she knew, and it was that the sweetness in those eyes truly lived up to their honeyed hue.“Son, Hyejoo,” Ms. Jung called.Handsome-girl broke eye contact first, lifting her head off the desk. “Here.”She’s Hyejoo.And I’m staring.
Relationships: Choi Yerim | Choerry/Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye
Comments: 48
Kudos: 208





	1. life is a marathon

Rumor had it that Yerim Choi was single for the first time in three years, and despite how much she wanted to deny the claim, it was absolutely true on all accounts.

Although she and her longtime boyfriend never went public about the split, the moron’s knack for tactlessness made it more than obvious with how quick he moved on to the next girl, leaving the keen impression that things were going to end up like this no matter what. As a result, Yerim was now forced to spend the following weeks dodging any and all boys in endless dread of all their thinly veiled attempts at flirting, if one could even call it that.

It was like they had all taken a page out of the same book, with the guide in question giving explicit instruction on how _not_ to attract women by means of unadulterated self-praise and reused offers to mediocre dining, maximum dissatisfaction guaranteed.

But storytellers, as Yerim called them, were the worst of them all by far. Having sat through so many recounts of "crazy" misadventures that were more or less similar to each other in both stupidity and uninteresting embellishments, the thought of having to entertain another boy's ego never failed to send a shiver down her spine. It all served to fuel her fight or flight response to silently beg the world, or any sympathetic higher power that was listening, for help in avoiding contact with the opposite sex until this all blew over.

If it ever would. Only God knew how many more of them were still waiting to make their move once the crowd had thinned out.

“I swear, if one more guy asks me if I want to ‘chill’, I’m gonna—UGH.” Yerim groaned, somehow managing to sink even further into the A.V. clubroom’s old, and quite frankly disgusting couch. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d regret the decision later, but sanitization took a back seat to her venting needs for now.

“Finally, you’re starting to get it,” Hyunjin said, the flatness in her voice revealing just how much of a non-issue she thought this whole thing was. “Remember what Miss Bae told us in our first homeroom?”

“No, but you’re gonna remind me anyway.”

“To quote the goddess herself—and write this down, you’ll need it later— _men ain’t shit._ ”

Yerim only grumbled in response. She doubted their homeroom teacher was one to say something like that in confidence, but there was an undeniable wisdom behind the words that made her want to believe otherwise. After all, if the famous Joohyun Bae really did impart such crucial knowledge to her students, who was she to deny it? 

Now that her relationship was dead and buried, it was sobering to consider how much compromise went into maintaining it. Plenty of wrongs were swept under the rug in the pursuit of hope, but like most hopes, they were too far removed from reality to come about on their own. At some point she started to expect nothing less than the usual fare, and maybe that’s when normalcy became her priority. In her mind, it was simple; if she couldn’t have it better, then keeping it stable was the next best thing. 

Yerim cupped her face, defeated, mournful, tired. _I'm such an idiot._ All that time, all that energy, and for what? It was wasted on someone who never would’ve returned the favor. A troubled whine rose in her throat, just to be cut short by a bell signalling free period’s end. Faced with no choice, she’d have to show her face on campus yet again as the student body’s latest object of attention. Why, oh why, did word travel so fast? Didn’t these kids have better things to do? 

Of course they didn’t. This was high school, and students were nothing but leeches waiting to feed off the next drop of gossip in blissful unawareness of the headaches caused by private matters being made public discourse.

Though, as Hyunjin would often say, even if it felt like everyone’s eyes were on her, it probably wasn’t that serious.

Yerim sat up for the first time in an hour, making sure to straighten out her uniform before reaching for the backpack adjacent to her friend’s chair.

“You staying?” she asked, watching Hyunjin court an unfinished bag of potato chips while some flashy anime played on her phone. 

“Save me a seat. I wanna finish this episode.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think. Do.”

Yerim side-eyed her friend to feign protest, but was ignored in favor of ridiculously athletic, animated boys playing volleyball. _What was it called again? Hi-chew? Forget it._

Refusing to be late to any classes on the first day of a new schedule, she left the clubroom without saying another word, backpack hanging loose off her shoulder in a show of typical teenage apathy as the door shut behind her.

Her sixth and final class of the day was biology with Ms. Jung, and she’d been looking forward to it since the morning announcements. Not because of the material itself, but because of the fact that there was nothing else to stop her from going straight home afterwards. As far as she was concerned, the class marked an end to social hell and the beginning of her real day, which was cause for celebration on its own.

Double checking the crumpled sheet of paper that was supposed to be her schedule, she weaved through the hallways like a ghost, reading the plaques outside each classroom to find her own. It wasn’t too long before the numbers lined up just right and, once they did, she dipped her head inside to see a collection of other students, each face more unfamiliar than the last as they scrambled about to score a spot by their friends.

While most people wouldn’t have been caught dead in a class without someone they knew, Yerim was more than glad to have a fresh start. The girl had become something of a household name, and this turned out to be the breath of fresh air she needed. Maybe her luck wasn’t all that terrible; at least, that’s what it was starting to look like, until she found someone occupying her coveted corner at the very back.

And like that, her dreams of blending in as just another student were shattered in one fell swoop, leaving her to pick up the pieces while inwardly cursing out the vintage cap-wearing girl who wasn’t even awake to notice. While it wouldn’t have mattered too much in any other class, Ms. Jung was known for finalizing seating arrangements on the first day as part of a no-bullshit policy—which was fair enough, but not any more accommodating to Yerim’s wants and needs than she would've liked to admit. 

In all seriousness, it wasn’t that serious at all. Like always, she just wanted something to complain about. It was a nuanced form of coping known only to the pettiest of people, and she intended to reap all the benefits before it came time to set aside her heartbroken self for something more refined like the regal, mature Yerim Choi she planned to be, refusing to be tied down by anything but herself in search of personal wealth and fulfillment.

But that was later, and this was now.

 _Should I ask her to switch?_ she thought, wondering if she was bold enough to wake somebody up for a personal reason like her own. Alas, thinking about it didn’t do her any favors, with Ms. Jung asking everyone to take a seat as soon as her foot was through the door. Yerim chewed on her cheek as she plopped onto the next desk over, trying hard to not let the situation get under her skin. _Too little, too late._

Pouting through the first ten minutes of class like the 18-year-old she was, she made a point to glance at the corner every-so-often as if the napper was a pest that needed to be removed; though, she’d be lying if she said that nothing else was running through her mind.

_She’s pretty. Really pretty. And… handsome, too? Guess some people do have it all._

“Choi, Yerim. Is Yerim here?” Ms. Jung called, finally starting attendance after the class had settled down. 

“Present,” she replied, causing more than a few heads to turn. 

Oh, how she hated that, but not as much as having to make up an excuse for Hyunjin’s absence despite it being their first day with a new teacher. Lucky enough for them both, it didn’t seem like Ms. Jung believed or cared enough about the food poisoning story to waste more time on questions that couldn’t be answered. Though loath to add another person to the growing list of Adults That Don’t Like Yerim Choi, a win would always be a win. As such, she crossed her arms in triumph at her teacher’s concession and went back to doing the usual business: nothing. 

Boredom commandeering her mind, Yerim’s gaze made an unconscious shift towards the one thing that stood out in recent memory—the handsome girl sitting just one seat to the left. There, she found two sleepy pools of honey staring back at her, unexpected and magnetic in their pull.

They blinked once; and so did she twice, not knowing what to make of their private moment. Well, there was _one_ thing she knew, and it was that the sweetness in those eyes truly lived up to their honeyed hue.

“Son, Hyejoo,” Ms. Jung called.

Handsome-girl broke eye contact first, lifting her head off the desk. “Here.”

_She’s Hyejoo._

_And I’m staring._

Yerim tore away as realization set in, the idea of being caught gawking at a stranger doing its best to help her retain some dignity. Minutes passed by as she tried her best to look anywhere that wasn’t Hyejoo’s direction, eyes darting around to miscellaneous objects while class went by undisturbed. She hadn’t even considered turning her attention back to Ms. Jung, who had finished attendance to start on their syllabus reading. At least, that’s what Yerim had assumed would be next on their agenda. In reality, not paying attention the whole period had come back to bite her in the ass.

“Alright everyone, we’ll be doing some icebreakers,” Ms. Jung said with melodic cadence. “Turn to the person on your left and introduce yourself with two truths and a lie.”

Yerim’s stomach plunged into a pit of despair as the room erupted in chatter. The Fates weren’t a kind bunch, were they?

Scandalized and rueful as she was, even she knew how good of a chance this was to clear things up with Hyejoo; that was, if clearing was needed to begin with. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t know if Hyejoo had noticed her lingering gaze—and if she did, what then? It wasn’t a crime to look at pretty things, and anyone would be hard pressed to ignore someone with that much visual appeal, triangle lips and all. 

Cursed logic giving her a new bout of confidence, Yerim swallowed her pride to look over at Hyejoo’s corner once again. The girl sat there with a hand supporting her head, seemingly waiting for Yerim to start off their conversation.

“So, did you wanna go first?” Yerim said, fluttering her eyelashes to imply that Hyejoo should take the lead.

“Sure.” The girl couldn’t have sounded more bored if she tried. “Two truths and a lie… How about this: I’m 164cm tall, I don't have any matching socks, and,” she paused, “I caught a weirdo looking at me today.”

Yerim froze. _A weirdo. She thinks I’m a weirdo._ “I can expla—” 

“Yoooo, my bad for being late,” Hyunjin’s voice washed over the two like a refreshing breeze. “What’s the deal, did I miss anything?” 

She took a seat on Yerim’s desk before an answer could leave the girl’s mouth, earning herself a weak slap on the back as she got comfortable.

“Excuse me, I didn’t order any cake,” Yerim said as she pushed the wagon in question away from her face. “We were in the middle of intros.” 

“Oh? Well, introduce me, then.”

Yerim squinted, but obliged to the request nevertheless. “This is Hyejoo,” she showcased the girl with open palms before turning, “and Hyejoo, this is Hyunjin.” 

“I know, we’ve met.”

The athlete-otaku’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Their introduction quickly segued into sports thereafter, and Yerim soon found herself at the center of a conversation that made little to no sense the deeper it got. Zoning out, she left the freaks to their own devices as talk of a tentative timeline leading up to their alleged, and apparently fated, encounter took center stage. _Guess I’ll just sit here then_ , she thought, using Hyunjin’s back as a pillow. Soothed by the gentle thrum of her friend’s inflections, Yerim’s eyelids blinked shut as spoken word melted into nothing more than white noise on her eardrums. 

It was odd. Her innocence was on trial, but it didn’t seem like Hyejoo cared that much about the staring; in fact, deep down, Yerim knew it didn't matter at all. Finding an excuse was just for her peace of mind. Thus, it came down to finding a tale worth spinning, and as for what that entailed, she didn't know.

“Right, Yerim?” 

The daydreamer hummed in response, knowing better than to agree with anything her friend said outright. “What are you on about now?”

“Soccer. Me and Hyejoo have a grudge match tomorrow, and I need you to stand in for Heejin.”

“It’s been like five minutes, why are you two already fighting?”

“Because she said we did friendlies before, but I don’t remember.”

“No, it’s because she didn’t believe that my team won. Twice,” Hyejoo added, tilting her head to assert a sort of detached dominance.

“Listen. I forget a lot of things, but I’d remember getting stomped.”

“I mean, as long as you’re ready for the three-peat.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes lit up in fiery competitiveness as she scoffed at the challenge. It’d been a while since someone riled her up this good. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

She then turned to her best friend, who’d been sitting dumbstruck since the news graced her ears. “So, you in?”

“What? I don’t even know how to play.” 

“You were in track.”

“That’s just running.”

“Which is like, ninety percent of the game!” Hyunjin slammed her hands on the desk in overexcitement. “I need your legs, Yerim. Please.”

It was a gross choice of words, for sure, but Hyunjin still had a point. They were lacking one player for a full field, and she wasn’t about to let some chump ruin her chances of beating Hyejoo. If she was going to lose, it would be on her own terms—not that she planned to in the first place, of course.

Nibbling at her bottom lip, Yerim struggled to say no. On one hand, Hyunjin wasn’t the type to ask for favors; on the other, she felt like her time would be better spent on things like online retail therapy or cat videos—a cheaper, and more favored form of therapy.

She sighed.

“Fine. Just for tomorrow, though. Anything after that and I’ll start charging you.”

“Sasuga, Yerim-chan. This is why we’re best friends.” 

“What does that even—y’know what? Nevermind.”

Yerim whipped out her phone to pass the remainder of class in peace, content to let the two athletes verbally duke it out as prep for their actual game. 

Unsurprisingly, it was an amused laugh that brought Hyejoo back into her line of sight once more, the sweetness she’d stared into before now replaced by two lovely crescents.

This wasn't the same Hyejoo she'd met thirty minutes prior, was it?

And if it was, why did she care?

* * *

There was one thing Hyunjin hadn’t bothered to remember while drawing up their deal, and it was that Yerim’s five year stint in track only ended because of serial stress fractures and a less than understanding coach. She learned the hard way that if hell’s molten rock bed had a name, it would be track and field on an injury. While it didn’t trouble her too much anymore, every beat she spent on the 400m used to be part of an elaborate prayer for salvation in the form of grit and mental fortitude, and simply being reminded of the pain in any way, shape, or fashion made Yerim’s stomach flip twice, wobbly knees and aching shins aside. 

Yet here she was again, surrounded by marmalade-toned polyurethane in her spare time as Hyejoo and Hyunjin drafted their teams for the day. Yerim hopped from one foot to another, shifting uncomfortably next to her friend. She wasn't too stoked to be outside while a cold sky hung above them, overcast and unwelcoming for what Hyunjin insisted was going to be ‘a good day’. 

“Hyun, do we have to play? It’s gonna rain soon and I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Of course we do. Didn’t you have to run in the rain for track? What’s so different now?”

“I’m retired, for one, and I mostly just stood in a hoodie until it was my turn. This…” she gave the dreary field a quick once-over, “is a commitment.” 

“Damn right it is. You just don’t get it, Yerim. This is bigger than both of us; we’re doing it for the spirit of _sport_ and _competition.”_

“No, I’m doing this for _you._ Don’t get it twisted.” 

Hyunjin’s lips curled back in mild, but unsurprised dissatisfaction. She’d never earned anything less than a blasé response from Yerim when it came to stuff like this, and there was the silent understanding between them that things wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. 

All things considered, it was nice that Yerim decided to show at all. She wouldn’t be doing much on the field, no, but if the horror stories about Heejin being an accidental bulldozer were in any part real, the difference in skill between the two was easily made up for with spatial awareness alone; and Hyunjin, being the team captain, had no qualms about less time spent on rewarding penalty kicks to the other team for what could’ve been avoided altogether. 

“You’re with me, Chae,” she said, corralling the group and its last member for a quick Hyunjin-style pep talk. 

“Alright team, your primary directive for today: don’t embarrass me. That’s it. Bust some shins if you want, but only if you got the insurance for it. Other than that, have fun.” Formation broke for just a moment as she made a single whistle with her fingers. “Positions, everyone!”

In contrast to an understandably confused Yerim, the gang split up to take their usual roles on the green without question, seemingly determined to win despite receiving what could’ve been the worst motivational speech of all time. 

“Now that we got those nerds sorted out,” Hyunjin spoke through the hair tie in her mouth, “you know what a striker is, Yerim?

“No idea.”

“Well, that’s what Heejin was, so you’re up in the front with me.”

“Front. Hyun, I’ve never played. Can’t I just defend or whatever?”

“It’s cool, it’s cool. Just keep your eye on the ball. And me. Stick to the sides; I kick it to you, you kick back. It’s simple. Do that, we beat Hyejoo and call it good.”

_Hyejoo. Right, this was all because of her._

“Just don’t blame me if we lose.”

The team captain beamed. “I would never. Because we won’t.” 

Yerim’s nose scrunched at her friend’s wild optimism, but things were finally starting to make sense. Nobody actually _cared_ about the pep talk; it was all about Hyunjin being Hyunjin and them doing their best with the unconditional support, and Yerim might’ve shed a tear at the camaraderie if she wasn’t already convinced that sports nuts were a different breed of their own. 

“Okay, where do I stand?”

Yerim scanned the opposition once more after being led to her starting position, taking mental notes on who seemed most likely to harass her for being a newbie. Almost making it to the end of the lineup without incident, the mood was dashed once she found herself snared by a familiar, honeyed brown from afar, its bearer wearing a lithe smirk as if to say ‘ _I’ve already won’._

Serving up a sneer of her own, Yerim turned away with a newfound sense of defiance to look at the uninvited mess of grey hanging above their fair campus. Looming closer than before, the ever-concerning promise of a cold shower was close to becoming reality and, from the looks of it, there was about an hour left until soaked socks and chafed thighs would spoil their fun. Yet, at Hyunjin’s insistence, they were going to play. 

Or more accurately, they never _weren’t_ going to, rain be damned.

* * *

  
  


As it turned out, Yerim’s prediction was off the mark by thirty minutes—just not in the way anyone would’ve preferred. Downpour came mid-way through their first game, leaving the players with a strong desire for proper cover and warm towels; but they all knew that wasn’t going to happen, especially with a certain Kim at the helm of this entire operation. 

First win already in the bag, Yerim was glad the rest of her team was putting in work while she ran around the sidelines, making fools of those assigned to defend against a rookie. It had her feeling a bit stupid, sure, but she wasn't about to complain about results. Decoys had their uses, and it just so happened that the other team believed their little bluff.

Needless to say, the charade didn’t last. After a time-out and some aggressive huddling, the opposition became more concerned about shutting Hyunjin down more than anything else. And that’s when they started losing. Hard.

Which meant a change of plans, and the introduction of Team Kim’s trump card: The Non-threat, also known as Yerim Choi.

_“They got half the team on me because they think I’m the ace. We’re gonna show them that’s wrong. No more playing forward; we’re gonna let them in, and when they slip up, we blitz for the goal._

_“But here’s the thing. Everyone wants a piece of this, so I can’t be up too far. That’s where you come in, Yerim. Vivi? She’s getting locked out too but that bitch is ripped so don’t worry about her. You’re the ace here. She passes it, you run and score.”_

The words echoed like thunder in Yerim’s mind as everyone went back to their respective positions, raindrops pelting half-lidded eyes all around. _Let them in, then blitz._ It was a lot of responsibility for someone who'd barely kicked a ball in her 18 years of living, but surely there was a method to the madness. Or maybe there was no method and Hyunjin was actually just insane; Yerim wasn't about to take bets on either turnout.

Regardless, if the plan hinged on her slipping through their defence, then the least she could do was give it a try. Terrified or not, she was a brave—if not utterly loyal—girl for those who needed her. Taking in all the action like an invested bystander, everything unfolded just like Hyunjin planned. Giving the ball away led to a deep push by Hyejoo’s team. _Speaking of which, where is she?_ Then it happened.

A breakthrough by the captain herself. Then, the start of a scramble towards the goal. 

One foot in front of the other, Yerim ran through the frontline as her friend fell far behind, hindered by the wall of bodies dedicated to stopping her. Yet somehow, in the flurry of limbs surrounding midfield, an undefended Vivi broke off the side to receive a pass and rushed at the goal without restraint, drenched hair whipping wildly in the heavy rain. 

While Yerim thought it was nothing less than brilliant, everyone else knew better than to assume the best. There was still a backline, after all, and it wasn’t long before they bolted past to corner Vivi, giving Yerim a mini spike in blood pressure at the thought of losing momentum on their power play.

“She’s fine, keep running!” Hyunjin yelled, trying her best to get past the lockdown squad.

The reminder afforded Yerim a moment of clarity to switch gears once more, starting up an overdrive she hadn’t used in forever. The one that only came out when she really cared about something other than herself. Like with track. Or her ex, if she was so bold to admit it. The same one steeped in enough nostalgia to keep her trapped in a dreamlike nightmare with no way forward, just for everything to crash and burn the second she remembered things could be better.

But none of that mattered now, and she of all people knew it was better to finish the race strong than to stand still. So she took that energy and ran, ran, and ran; unstoppable like a bullet in the wind. 

It was just unfortunate that, in her excitement, she forgot the first cardinal rule of soccer: always know where you’re going. Having kept her eyes peeled on Vivi the whole time, Yerim was oblivious of the one person moving to block her until a meter was left between them, and as one might’ve expected, things only went downhill from there.

Digging her heel into the ground after the realization, she was already too late—not to mention, ill-equipped for the confrontation—as her cleatless feet slipped off the green and into the air, momentum sending her straight towards the defenseless defender like a stray bowling ball. 

…

 _Yerim!_ _Yerim!_ _Yerim!_

_…_

Clutching at fake grass, she barely had a second to piece together what had just happened before the wind was at her back again, with two strong arms gathering the rest of her body into a full-on bridal carry off the field. _Hyunjin?_

Knowing she was in good hands, Yerim’s head fell back to appreciate the steady barrage of droplets massaging her left temple for all its searing pain. 

“Hyun, don’t walk so fast,” she pleaded, to which the swaying slowed thereafter. “Thanks.”

With shelter being just a stone’s throw away, Yerim stayed comfortable in her friend’s embrace until she was gently set onto dry ground, far removed from both rain and the prying eyes of whoever witnessed her very public embarrassment. Taking a moment’s peace to recollect herself, she felt the other girl take up a spot beside her without so much as a word between them.

 _Weird,_ she thought. It wasn’t like Hyunjin to stay this quiet, ever. _Is she blaming herself?_

“It’s alright, Hyun. It’s my fault I wasn’t looking.”

“Nah, I should’ve been more careful,” said Hyejoo. Pause. _Hyejoo?_

Turning, Yerim’s eyelids fluttered open to find the girl’s face mere centimeters away from her own. She pulled back. “Where’s—”

“Dunno. Said something about a lift, I think.”

“Oh...” she followed Hyejoo’s gaze to what should’ve been her temple, “Is it that bad?”

“Could be worse,” Hyejoo fished a phone out of her pocket. "Wanna see?” 

Curiosity getting the best of her, Yerim tentatively took the phone and opened its camera to assess the damage. She was glad to find the injury felt worse than it looked. 

“You did pretty good for your first day.”

“First and last.”

“Yeah,” she sniffed, partly because of the cold, “probably didn’t leave a good impression.” 

Realising her poor phrasing, Yerim’s attention went back to Hyejoo as she returned the phone. “No, I had fun. I’m just not into it like you guys are.”

The other girl simply nodded, letting silence reclaim its rightful place between them. Seconds passed as Yerim took in the torrent beyond Hyejoo’s silhouette. Then minutes. Then, after what had seemed like an eon of wishing the pain away, she heard it.

“Hey,” Hyejoo said, the softness in her voice deconstructing any image Yerim might’ve had of her before. She leaned forward with her hands on the ground. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“Huh?”

“Please.”

 _It’s really not a big deal,_ is what Yerim wanted to say, but couldn’t. Not when those pleading eyes were so close. “Sure?”

“Thank God,” the other girl sat back and sighed in relief. “I felt like shit this whole time.”

Yerim stifled a laugh. Who’d have expected Hyejoo Son to be so innocent? 

It wasn’t long before she saw Hyunjin’s figure emerge in the distance with two bags; one slung over her shoulder, the other being used as an impromptu umbrella.

“Yerim!” she called, coming into the archway. “I brought the car over. You good to walk?”

“Would you carry me if I said no?”

“Ah, this girl.” Hyunjin huffed and helped her friend up. “I’m starting to think you’re sturdier than I am.” Then addressing Hyejoo, she added, “thanks for taking care of her.”

Met with upturned triangle lips in response, the duo said their goodbyes and scurried off towards Hyunjin’s car, bags held high for protection against elements abound. Hand in hand, they approached the silver doors in surprising cheerfulness despite all that happened.

“Isn’t that Hyejoo’s hoodie?” Hyunjin said after they’d hopped in. “Man, she’s nicer than I thought.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yerim looked down to find a vaguely familiar pine green garment resting where her shirt should’ve been. “Yeah, I guess…”

Clearly, there was more to Hyejoo than met the eye. One surprise after the other, she’d somehow managed to claw her way out of obscurity to live in another girl’s mind within just two days of minimal contact—rent free with full accommodation. It was an impressive feat for anyone; and Yerim, being the girl in question, had to admit her budding interest in the mystery of it all.

As to what extent, she had no clue.

“How will you make it up to me?” Yerim whispered to the window, fogging it with curiosity. 

How, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's for you, hyerim nation  
> upd8s soon™
> 
> [check out my other things maybe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuosol/works)  
> @commedesgowons on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commedesgowons) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/commedesgowons)  
> say hi :)


	2. still waters

“It’s not heeeere.”

Yerim watched Hyunjin lay herself out over their shared notes, defeated in the search for a single hint to Q4 on Ms. Jung's latest problem set. “This is the end, Yerim. Drop out with me; we can see the world while we’re still young!”

“Sounds lovely,” she mumbled with a mechanical pencil balanced between her nose and upper lip. “I’d rather not.”

“But—”

“Uh-uh, we’re not calling it quits now. Not after three hours in _these_ seats. Just text Heejin or something, doesn’t she have bio first period?”

Hyunjin frowned. “Doesn’t mean she knows anything…”

 _Ah,_ Yerim thought. “Let me guess. You guys fought again.”

“No! Well, kinda. Look, I was just joking around and she got mad.” 

Yerim hummed, unamused but ready for the other half of it. 

“Y’know how her dog looks kinda like K.K. Slider?” _Already off to a bad start._ “I might’ve drawninhiseyebrowswithamarker but listen, it was the whiteboard kind and I thought it would come off easier because why the hell wouldn’t—”

A crumpled ball of paper to the face interrupted her explanation. “That girl's way too nice to be dating an idiot like you.”

“Yeah… yeah.”

Fresh out of other options, Yerim took a chance on luck and began searching through her own marginalia-ridden textbook for some semblance of an answer to their still very much unanswered question. Scouring the chapter outline and related pages, it took all of eight minutes for the words to start blending together to mean nothing at all, prompting her to shove the hulking tome out of view and sigh. _Perfect. Just perfect._

Even with the problem set being due tomorrow, it was clear that they weren’t going to get anywhere far on their own. And to that bleak, defeated end, Yerim accepted her fate to join the league of forlorn students biding their time in the library, unceremoniously splaying out on the desk beside Hyunjin who, naturally, was already half-asleep after all the whining. With her current plight shelved for the time being, Yerim allowed herself to drift in stray thought, each one coalescing to reveal something else on the mind—less important than homework, but equal in how much she cared.

A whole week had passed since Hyejoo made her promise, and she still hadn’t done anything about it.

 _‘Make it up to you’, my ass._ Yerim’s lips pursed as she berated herself for having expectations to begin with. They barely knew each other, after all, and it wasn’t like she was about to go demanding favors out of nowhere. 

Tired of herself—and life in general—she repositioned herself to look at the elaborate milky way galaxy model hanging high above them in harmonic discord, unchanged and still striking for all the years she’d known of its existence. Although unsure of what everything represented aside from earth, sun, and moon, she felt calmed by the grand reminder that there was more to the world than the personal problems of an 18-year-old girl. Enticed by peace, her eyelids drew shut for some time afterwards, only to be woken by a small knock on the desk _._

“What,” she heard someone say in a familiar pitch. Laxed lids springing open, she found a pair of triangle lips occupying her vision. “You guys couldn’t sleep at home?” Hyejoo asked, tilting her head as she did so. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh, we were uh,” Yerim finally met the girl’s eyes and threw a sly jab at her sleeping friend’s rib cage. “We were just taking a break, right, Hyunjin?”

“Wha—Whassup?” The slumbering girl sprung to life with all the coherency of a babbling newborn, and Yerim could’ve sworn that the blotch of red stamped across her left cheek told a better story than Hyunjin could at the moment. It was a bit embarrassing, but still well within reason.

“Biology.”

Hyejoo laughed. “Doesn’t look like you got far,” she said, pulling out a notebook. “Me neither. Wanna group up?”

 _Oh?_ “Sure!” _She’s gotta know something._

Hyejoo nodded as she took a seat at the opposite end of their table, flipping through her notebook all the while to find where she left off. The girl's seeming determination soon translated into answers on paper, leading her audience to watch in awe as she worked her way through Q1. Then Q2. Then Q3. Moving to the next question just as fast, she coasted through the steps with an abnormal amount of confidence for someone who spent most of the class period sleeping. 

“Hold Awn,” Hyunjin said, rapping her knuckles against the table. “What are you doing?”

“The problem set?”

“No like, all of _that_.” She pointed at the girl’s elaborate answers. “How. Why. When, even.”

Hyejoo gave them an incredulous look before nodding. “Well, let’s start with step one.” 

Unfortunately for her, what started off as a quick tutoring session turned into a full review of everything they’d covered in class so far. Covering everything from basic photosynthesis to the CAM pathway, Hyejoo brought them up to speed without tripping over herself even once; and Yerim, being bare minimum as hell, couldn’t help but be impressed at what was supposed to be common knowledge at this point.

“You’re better at teaching this stuff than Ms. Jung,” said Hyunjin, to which their tutor’s face lit up. The word _cute_ manifested in the background of Yerim’s consciousness, but in favor of finishing her assignment, she let it fade without another thought. It was a decision that, for once, worked to her advantage as the trio completed the problem set with hours of their night still left to spare, an effort that was nothing short of a miracle.

“Yessssss, I don’t have to drop out!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted and threw her pen into the foyer. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna celebrate with a victory piss. Later, nerds.”

Yerim took an exasperated glance around to find that the crude declaration drew a decent amount of eyes in their direction, with one of them being Hyunjin’s least favorite librarian. 

“Bye. And please don’t come back.” 

Receiving the usual salute in response, she hid into her palm as Hyejoo held back a snicker. 

“She’s really something, huh?” The other girl said with a casual lean forward, amusement written all across her features.

“Yeah, you get used to it.”

“Seems like you’re still trying.”

There it was—her signature smirk. The effortless, yet enchanting action that always captured Yerim’s attention with resounding success.

“How’s your head?”

“All good. Almost like it never happened.”

“That’s great.” Hyejoo’s smirk melted into a small smile as she shifted a bit closer. “Hey, so… Are you free this saturday?” 

The question was enough to make Yerim’s breathing—and heart—skip a beat as her imagination ran wild and unchecked by the rest of her cognitive processes. 

“Yeah.” Short, simple, and sweet. Not desperate at all.

“Then let’s have some fun. Just us.”

 _Just us, she said._

“Okay.”

_Just us._

* * *

Yerim didn’t know what to expect from Hyejoo, but it certainly wasn’t an all expenses paid trip to the local roller rink. In all her eighteen years of living, she never thought that she’d be the one to have hard leather strapped around her feet with even harder, beaten wheels attached for the alleged purpose of _fun._ Granted, she was also the furthest thing from a hobbyist, so it made sense that her normal (read: dull) life wasn’t crammed with the unique encounters that might’ve been typical of thrill seekers throughout the eras. Not that roller skating was in any way thrilling, harmful, or abnormal to begin with.

Whether this was her fault for lacking proactivity, or that of her ex’s tendency to stay indoors for no better purpose than to play his Fork Knife or whatever on his computer all day, nobody could say; nor did it matter much in the running. What really mattered was that she’d upgraded from nothing to _something_ , even if that something scared the shit out of her.

 _Is this really fine?_ she thought, tapping the heels of her skates together once, then twice for good measure. Alas, she was not Dorothy Gale, and these definitely weren’t the ruby red slippers that could amend that difference. With no experience and a whole lot of pride, there wasn’t much comfort in knowing that everyone else past the barrier was moving at velocities she hadn’t even dreamed of—at least, when it came to humans being on wheels.

But if she was honest, looking in from the outside, it seemed much more fun than anything she’d done in recent memory, and that alone was reason enough to reconsider her aversion towards new, possibly worthwhile experiences. She envisioned herself at the center of it all, cruising smooth and freeform alongside other fun-havers while the spirit of Retro claimed her. It was Grace. It was Elegance. It was Yerim Choi in her head, but only her head. A casual daydream that ended just in time for Hyejoo to finish lacing up.

“Ready?” she said, fastening the last knot.

“Yeah, I just… need a minute.”

Hyejoo let out a small laugh as she offered her hand to Yerim, who stared at it for a good few seconds before gingerly reaching out; and, as if they’d done it a million times prior, Hyejoo closed the distance to lock their fingers without saying a word. Yerim’s toes curled at the touch, but she spent too much time practicing her poker face last night to let it go to waste now.

“It’ll be fun, I promise. If it isn’t, I’ll let you pick the next thing we do.”

_Next thing?_

A light tug broke her train of thought and brought her off the bench. Clutching Hyejoo’s arm, she slid forward ever-so-slightly as her joints recalibrated to accommodate the new balancing act. Stability came just seconds later, and while she might’ve been able to stand without Hyejoo’s support, keeping the fact under wraps seemed more appropriate for the moment. Overall, it wasn't a terrible start; even if the wobbling and teetering left a bit to be desired.

“See, you’ve already got it. Might even be better than me after a few minutes out there.”

“Yeah, right.” _For both of our sakes, please don’t inflate my ego any further._

“Don’t believe me?” Her handsome smirk said it all—the time was now. 

Hyejoo turned and approached the barrier with her classmate in tow. Taking one last gulp, Yerim crossed onto the lacquered wood while fear wracked her brain, and it only got worse once she came to realize that smooth floors and slippery wheels were just two parts of one insidious package.

“Grab the sides, we’ll take it slow.”

Yerim stiffened as a reassuring palm pressed onto her lower back, soothing her in a way she forgot a simple gesture could; but as far as she was concerned, things could stay like this forever—just without the wheels, of course. Transforming comfort into determination, she inched forward with full intent to make that retro daydream of hers a reality. Thirty minutes later, she was moving without any support whatsoever. 

While it wasn’t too impressive for someone who’d spent nearly two decades on earth, progress was, without a doubt, progress, and she wouldn’t let anyone take the achievement away from her. 

“Oh my god,” she squealed and shared an eager look with her classmate, who simply smiled and threw up a victory sign in response.

One unsteady stride after the other, she came to understand the subtle joy of being able to break through stale air, aided by nothing but stubbornness and waxed wheels. Sold on the whip and curl of the new draft against her body, she couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun with someone that wasn’t Hyunjin. It was magical, to say the least, and it only reaffirmed what she considered true: courage pays off in many ways—most of them unimaginable and mystifying, but appreciated all the same. 

And little did she know, her gutsy foray into unknown territory was already something of a hot topic among employees and skating veterans alike. All of whom were beside themselves with relief after hearing the bumbling newcomer had finally earned her stripes. Hyejoo hid a smirk at the forbidden knowledge, but it wasn’t like the other girl was all that oblivious.

“You’re laughing,” said Yerim, indignant as ever. ”Why are you laughing?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just—is this Cascada?”

Yerim cocked a brow. Then, she heard it; the golden lovechild of german techno and eurodance itself.

_‘Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling…_

_And every time we kiss, I swear I can fly…_

“Oh, _this song?_ ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hyejoo scoffed and crossed her arms, trying to appear as annoyed as possible. “It’s like you’re trying to offend me.” 

“I wasn’t, but that wouldn’t be so bad. You’re too calm and cool anywa—” Yerim stalled the stream of word spaghetti spewing from her mouth with a mental slap to the face. Talk about a freudian slip. 

“Cool, huh,” Hyejoo said while rolling forward, wearing a look that screamed, _tell me more, Yerim, tell me more._ Or maybe it didn’t, and Yerim’s imagination was acting up again. Either way, it was time for her to dip, and _fast._

“Yeah, like, I just meant that… I need to use the restroom real quick.”

The shorter girl managed to flash a wry smile of her own before spinning around in panicbarrassment, going as far as to try and escape her situation with a strong kick despite knowing how futile the attempt was. No matter how fast she went—which wasn’t that fast at all—Hyejoo would surely be able to catch up, and the simple fact had her reeling from head to toe.

 _Kill me now,_ she thought, shuffling towards the exit to protect her fragile ego. Although Hyejoo didn’t seem like the type to mercilessly tease someone, her expression from earlier wasn’t exactly the most promising otherwise. As such, Yerim was more than happy to speed away with whatever remained of her integrity. But that was only one reason.

The other was a more visceral response that she couldn’t quite rationalize, but most certainly had to do with the fact that she used the word _cool_ to begin with. Hyejoo was cool, yes, but to the extent that she needed to know, or that it needed to be said? Also yes, but that wasn’t the point. Then again, what _was_ the point? She revealed her true feelings to the world. So what. Offhand compliments were normal between friends, if that’s what they were.

Was that what they were?

She closed her eyes in vague frustration for just a moment, and that was her second mistake; the first was an amateur decision to let her laces go unchecked this whole time, but that much was clear when a small jerk from below caused her knees to buckle. Thrown by her own weight, it was the start of a tragedy. That was the thing about skates—they could make anyone feel like a force of nature and humble them all the same, and Yerim wasn’t an exception to that rule. In fact, being seconds away from shattering her only nose, she was a perfect example of its veracity. 

_Fuck._

A single curse was all she could manage as the floorboards got closer. Swinging her arms forward to break the fall, her breath hitched. Not because of the impact, but because of the hand gripping her wrist. It was gentle, but strong; it was Hyejoo, once again.

“Gotcha!” she said, flipping the shorter girl around to pull her near. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” _She’s close_ . “Thanks.” _Really close._

Hyejoo’s worry melted into a genuine smile, and suddenly, it was like nothing else mattered anymore.

_'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static..._

_And every time we kiss I reach for the sky..._

_Can't you hear my heart beat so, I can't let you go..._

_Want you in my life._

* * *

Dazed was the word, and Yerim was its personification. She hadn’t been thrown for a loop this bad since Hyunjin made things official with Heejin, and that was forever ago—before her ex, even, which only made it more awful than it had to be. Shivering as a brisk wind broke against her back, she sat defeated under the starless night sky. It’d only been five minutes since she left Hyejoo to return their gear, but every second she spent with or without the girl mirrored an eternity. The realisation chilled her to the bone, but that very well could’ve been the weather doing its magic. In short, Yerim Choi was a wreck all before 8pm on a Saturday, and she had no one to blame but herself. 

Still, it wasn’t like things were all _that_ bad. Running counter to how she felt, skating was fun; as was talking to Hyejoo, perhaps even more so. So why was it crashing down on her? The answer was simple, but she’d never admit to knowing it. Not tonight, at least, but that was only if things went her way.

And god, did she hope things would go her way.

“Didn’t think it'd be this dark already,” Hyejoo sidled up beside her before she realized it. “Did you need to be home for anything?”

Yerim thought about it. “Like dinner? No, I’m fine. My parents probably think I’m at Hyunjin’s right now,” she toyed with her fringe and continued, “but that also probably means I’ll have to find something to eat before going back.”

“Perfect, I was getting hungry anyway. Which brings me to my next point: I am now hereby granting you the executive power to pick wherever we eat.”

“What—”

“Chop chop, Miss Choi. God might be patient, but this girl isn’t.”

The comment earned an eye roll in return; even if it was just to stifle the unwilling smile that would've surfaced otherwise.

“And does Miss Son have any preferences?”

“Picky Hyejoo is off the clock,” the taller girl shrugged. “So, it’s your time to shine.”

Yerim feigned annoyance with a small hum. Knowing downtown was their best bet and that it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes away by foot, she started southwards in hopes that her classmate would catch on to the plan, if not to demand her attention in its entirety. Spacing out her steps for Hyejoo to take the hint, it wasn’t long before they were side-by-side on an adventure to who knows where, guided by nothing except intuition and hunger.

After passing what must’ve been the fifth lamppost in complete silence, Yerim started to wonder why the _lack_ of words between them was more comforting than anything else. She’d been conditioned to believe that dead conversations only exposed faulty relationships for what they were, so why wasn’t she feeling it with Hyejoo? 

She took a cursory glance at her classmate and found the answer right away; wearing a small, contented expression, it was abundantly clear that the taller girl was happy enough with what they had, silence and all. Turning back to the dimly lit road ahead of them, Yerim didn’t even try to resist this time as a similar smile replaced her typical unimpressed look. 

A cascade of buildings small and tall came into view soon after that, and with it, a whole new catalogue of restaurants to pick from. Continuing with their idle stroll, nothing in particular stood out to Yerim until she spotted a vaguely familiar sign off in the distance. It flickered in alluring shades of off-white and maroon to glow brilliantly against the waning night, reading _Cafe Rosy_ for everyone to see. If the constant flow of smoothies and desserts on her Instagram feed were anything to go by, this was _the_ wannabe influencer hangout spot of recent virality. 

“Do you like sweets?” she asked. “Don’t even think about dodging the question.” 

Hyejoo followed her gaze to the sign and shrank a bit. “Does watermelon count?”

 _Guess that’s a no._ Yerim nodded with a slight pout. _Oh, well._

Quick to move on, she almost managed to take her first step across the street when a pair of arms rotated her to face the cafe exterior yet again. “Rosy. Yes or no. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

A pause. “Yes?”

Hands still on her shoulders, Yerim let Hyejoo peddle her through the next two blocks. Considering that nobody around her ever treated themselves to confections both sugary and sweet, she couldn’t deny that there was some excitement in visiting a new, gram-approved shop like the trendy girl she never got to be. But as always in wishing, it would’ve served her well to remember that there was always room for disappointment as well. Tonight, it came in the form of locked glass doors and a tired worker behind the counter, keyring in hand as she absentmindedly played with her phone.

Hyejoo, evidently, was not one to be deterred by such disappointment as the girl loudly knocked on the inadmissible panes to make herself known. Catching the woman’s attention, she pointed to the handle and made an unlocking motion until Yerim tugged at her jacket.

“C’mon, they’re closed. Let’s just find another place.”

“Shh. Patience is a virtue.” The girl placed a single digit on her triangle lips and rapped even harder against the glass. “Get off your phone, shithead!”

“Hyejoo!” Yerim lit up in distress as the lone worker approached them with an attitude, but in stark contrast to how she imagined the scene would play out, no set of choice words or flying fists were shared in the exchange that followed.

“Are you volunteering as tribute?” The older woman stepped aside to let them in, voice dripping with enough allure to fill a luxury tub twice over. 

“Yes, now pass the keys. Tell Mom I’ll be late, too.”

_Mom who? Their mom?_

“Word.” She gave the confused girl a quick once-over before smiling in full, basking Yerim in a comfort akin to that of a first love. _Uh, what's happening right now?_ “Well, enjoy.”

Marking her departure with a sweet wink, Cafe Rosy’s lead seductress left Yerim to string together the pieces of an expanding narrative all on her own. Hot woman. Keys. Hot woman. Mom. Hot woman. Sure enough, there was only one reasonable explanation: Hyejoo Son was sisters with the most attractive person in town, and their family also happened to own the premier desserts eatery of her dreams. 

“I know Sooyoung put the chairs up, but that doesn’t mean you have to just stand there, you know,” Hyejoo spoke from behind the counter. 

_When did she get there?_

“Grab a seat, make yourself comfortable, I’ll take your order in just a sec, yada yada.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Yerim mumbled through the awe and made her way to one of the stools waiting to fulfill their chairish destinies.

Her moment of weakness concluded with a refocus on the menu fastened above Hyejoo who, to her mild irritation, still hadn’t turned on the lights. Ignoring the clang of kitchenware just beyond where she sat, she eyed the faint letters detailing delicacies native to her sugar-blessed fantasies and, one by one, deciphered them in diligence against the dark.

Maybe a bit overcommitted to the cause, she hadn’t noticed Hyejoo walking away from the counter with a fanciful dish in hand. Some clinks and thuds later, her attention shifted to the lone piece of silverware brandished at her face, and then to the mountain of strawberry-garnished shaved ice placed between them. 

_Cute._ The dish aesthetics, she meant. Obviously.

“What happened to taking my order?” 

“That’s the first thing you say?” Hyejoo eyed her in faked offense. “We’re closed, so no orders. Just bingsu à la Rosy, compliments of the chef,” her spoon glimmered in the moonlight as she twirled it like a lightweight pen. “Don’t forget to send yours, though; I hear she’s waiting on them.”

Yerim frowned at the light scolding and tapped around for a utensil of her own, but the brief search only ended in disappointment. Lucky for her, it didn’t take long for the other girl to notice, her triangle lips rounding into an ‘o’ as they reached a mutual understanding.

“Oh, right. Gimme a sec.”

“Actually...” _Actually what?_ “I’m fine with sharing.” _True. Wait—_

The air, much like Yerim's own cognizance, came to a loaded standstill.

“If you say so.” Hyejoo replied with her usual coolness, and Yerim felt an old tension coil at the pit of her stomach when the taller girl didn’t hesitate to bring their stools closer, reminiscent of their first day in class. 

“Want the first bite?”

Pretty in pink, the ice sat undisturbed as Yerim came to terms with their new shoulder-to-shoulder, perfume mixing arrangement. It was what she wanted, after all, and in accepting it, she was also determined to end the one-way struggle by taking the silverware in nuanced defiance, digging past the glaze and onto her reward—one part bitter to its three parts sweet. Her eyes widened as it melted on her eager taste buds, and so came the dramatics.

“Hyejoo, this is literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” The praise rolled off her tongue in a way she hadn’t done before. A lot of ‘firsts’ were being broken tonight, whether she was aware of it or not.

“Yeah? Wonder how many ‘cool’ points that gets me.”

Yerim choked at the sudden throwback, but considering that the slip-up was bound to come back and haunt her sooner or later, she wasn’t too surprised, to say the very least. If anything, she was more glad that Hyejoo brought it up now to save her the stress of going through another rumor run at school. 

“Zero. Zilch. Nada. In fact, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Start making sense, please.”

“That’s a nice way to say I’m already at the limit.” 

The taller girl smirked and plucked the spoon from her classmate’s hand before scooping into the mound; but just as she brought the cold to her lips, it was redirected by the hook of a stray finger and back to Yerim, who ate it without a trace of fear. The thief flashed a smile of her own and leaned onto her elbow as if to say, _serves you right._

“This might be the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” Hyejoo leaned forward. As for what purpose? Only she knew. “It’s a pretty one. A shame you don’t do it more often.”

_What do you even say to something like that?_

“I do if there’s a reason to.”

“So I’m your reason tonight?” 

Yerim’s jaw locked, the rise of an obvious blush sending her mind even further down the path of no return.

“Remember what I said about making sense?” 

A soft _clank_ drew her eyes to the table where Hyejoo’s petite fingers rested, weakly curled around stainless steel. _Pretty hands._ Her gaze wandered upwards, slow and perhaps full of purpose, and upon meeting her classmate's eyes—dark, honeyed, intoxicating—she could only wonder one thing: _when did she get so close?_

“Yerim.” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Eyes, nose, lips—God clearly had his favorites, and Hyejoo was one of them. Looking at her now, Yerim couldn’t find a reason to resist any longer. She’d thought of nothing _but_ this girl for the last week, and the pine green hoodie enshrined atop her desk was proof of that. 

“What’s stopping you?”

The question held a plea, and in that plea, an admission. One that she thought would never escape the perilous depths of her mind—the prison in which her deepest, most hidden desires lurked unashamed and tucked away from the scornful eye of reason, and above all, herself. _I think I like you,_ she surrendered. _I think I really like you._

Dear and delicate, their lips met like a midnight tide against the shore to confirm what was obvious from the start. Yerim let the rush of strawberry-flavored bliss flood her thoughts, and before she knew it, only Hyejoo was left. Honey brown. Pine green. Hyejoo.

Hyejoo, Hyejoo, Hyejoo.

Anything and everything, all about _Her._

Shrouded in darkness, they bloomed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. disk read error

“So you and Hyejoo… did _that?_ ”

A crude reenactment of The Deed through the use of hands caused Yerim to grimace.

“Please, stop. You’re making it worse,” she said, curling even further into herself on Hyunjin’s passenger side seat.

“Dude, I can’t help if I don’t have the facts straight, y’know. It’s due process. But now I’m trying to figure out why you’re chilling with me instead of smacking lips with some tall hottie in the courtyard. Like I know we’re best friends and all, but every bird’s gotta learn how to fly—” 

“I’m here because this whole thing is freaking me out, Hyunjin.”

Yerim brought the overhead visor down to protect her eyes from the careless sun. 

“is it... homophobia?”

“What? No! It’s just too easy, like always. You know how I am—all heart and no head. Like, who the hell gets out of a three year relationship to fall for another girl not even a month later? This _shouldn’t_ be happening, but it is, and I don’t know what to do because I’m tired of making mistakes.”

“Ah, so it’s angst.”

“Really? _This_ is you helping? But yes, I guess.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to remind you that we’re _eighteen_ and in _high school_. This is literally the best time to make mistakes. Sure, you dated a tool for three years and it sucked, but it’s not like whatever you do with this girl is gonna end in the same shitty way. You obviously listened to your gut when it was saying something like, ‘I like you, Hyejoo. I really do,’ so what’s the difference between then and now?”

_I hate how she got that right._

“The difference is that there’s no ridiculously handsome slash pretty girl in front of me to fry my brain til it’s burnt like your girlfriend’s latest—and fifth—attempt at _boeuf bourguignon._ Seriously, does she think she’s french or something?!” She turned to Hyunjin, eyes narrowed and accusatory. “And _you_. Why aren’t you more surprised about all of this?!”

“Hey, take it easy with the cooking drags, dude, she actually likes you. And I don’t know, maybe because I’ve known there was something fruity about you since like, year eight? It’s all about the vibes. Not that you can read them, considering where we’re at right now.”

Yerim had to the new information sink in before she could give her brow a calming pinch and move on.

“All I’m saying is that Saturday night was amazing. Wonderful, even; but whatever we have, it’s—it’s almost too good to be true, and that’s exactly why I can’t do it. She’s way better than a rebound, so what’s wrong with taking a step back to treat her like it?”

“Nothing, except for the fact that you think this is anything close to a rebound at all. Your whole ‘one month out of a relationship’ thing doesn’t hold up when we both know you’ve been functionally available for _six,_ if not more. Now, here’s my expert opinion on the matter: you’re scared, gay, and lonely—and it’s time to do something about it.”

Light-pinned clouds moved under their watch as they became immersed in an impassive, but thoughtful mood. Hyunjin was right, of course, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. 

“Tell me you’re still texting each other, at least.”

“Yeah, we are.” Yerim sighed. “Kind of.” 

She grabbed her phone from the center console, unlocked it, and placed it in Hyunjin’s hand with KakaoTalk already opened to Hyejoo’s page. Though appeased at first, one small detail present throughout the oddly brief chat history spoiled whatever good that could’ve come out of it.

“Three hours. You take three hours to reply to anything she sends.”

“Yes.”

“But it’s not just three hours. It’s exactly three hours.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

“... Yes.”

Hyunjin let the brick fall as she leaned back to rub away the brewing headache that, for all intents and purposes, would never have assaulted her temples if it was anyone other than the cosmic-anomaly-disguised-human known as Yerim Choi at her side.

“Alright, this is what we’re gonna do,” she said, using reason as her crutch and lifeline. “Heejin and I are going to a party this weekend. Come with us. I’ll invite Hyejoo, and you two can have a nice night together without needing to be alone. If the vibes are off, turn her down gently; if they aren’t, then there isn’t a problem, and you get to frolic away with your not-girlfriend at any point you get sick of having everyone else as company. Simple, yeah?” 

Yerim ignored the knot forming in her stomach to humor her friend who no doubt thought the scheme was flawless in every way. That was the thing about easy, straightforward plans—simplicity had little bearing on how suited they were for real life application. Yet, she wasn’t too far gone so as to think her current plan was any better. That was to say, there was an actual solution to her problem now compared to before—even if it did come with its fair share of reasons to worry.

For instance, in concerns to her unfortunate time in the high school limelight, the possibility of another rumor breaking out was the last thing she wanted to entertain in any way manageable. And for it to revolve around another girl, who could say whether she was ready to take that plunge? 

“So you want me to flirt with her in public.”

”No, I want you to enjoy yourself while hiding in plain sight.”

Another twist was added to the ever-evolving Yerim Pretzel. “Who’s hosting?”

“Chuu.”

“Bless you?” she said, as if that noise meant anything to her. 

“Jiwoo Kim, vice captain of the drill team.”

“I don’t know her.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be a decent sized thing; plus, she treats everyone like she’s known them for ten years anyway. So, moving on from the small details, what’s the go?”

Yerim’s cheeks puffed until pressure broke the seal of her lips, and once the last bits were all but gone from her system, she gave an answer that marked the start of something new; the humble beginnings of a girl who’d been all too scared to do anything that involved moving forward at a reasonable pace.

“Fine,” she said, unfurling herself in resignation. “Whatever.”

Discontent as she might’ve sounded, the sense of anticipation budding within her heart of hearts told an entirely different story. Of the two ways she knew it could end with Hyejoo, ruin was the last thing she expected with respect to their brief, but dazzling history. 

“You’re driving, right?”

* * *

_It’s... huge._

A warm breeze struck Yerim’s half-exposed neck as she crawled out of the backseat, more focused on taking in the view than finding proper footing for her next few steps away from the car. 

“Is this actually Jiwoo’s place?” She couldn’t help the mild disbelief that must’ve been written on her face.

“For the last time, she likes being called _Chuu._ And yes, we have arrived at her humble residence. Don’t forget to leave me a tip on Uber.”

“Isn’t it nice?” Heejin hopped over from the other side and half-tackled her girlfriend. “I haven’t been here in years.”

With all three of them admiring the gross display of wealth in front of them even as they approached, Yerim took a moment to come terms with the fact that this was, in fact, happening, and that turning back wasn’t going to be an option at any point during the night. After reaching the veranda and ringing the bell to no avail, Heejin was the first to decide that going in without express permission was appropriate enough for guests at a house party that, from the looks of it, hadn’t hit full swing quite yet, if at all. 

“We’re coming in!” 

Her reach for the knob was interrupted by the creak of an opening door and a tug at her wrist, which then turned into a monstrous hug from who Yerim could only assume was _the_ Chuu.

“Heejin! Oh, babygirl, you finally came back to me,” said the sprightly girl as she mashed their cheeks together, “tch, I knew that meatheaded soccer freak wasn’t any good—”

“Sup, Chuu.” Hyunjin peeked her head from around the frame to give the host a cordial smile. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Oh jeez, hey _you,_ ” she said, petting her friend like a prized possession. “You’re _so_ welcome, I’d do anything for our lovely Heekie.” 

“Aww, look at my two favorite people getting along," Heejin cooed with affection for them both, somehow oblivious to war of passive aggression unfolding in front of her. 

_I’m definitely missing something here_ , Yerim thought, but as much as she wanted to go inside and leave the awkwardness behind, letting Hyunjin deal with that mess alone wasn’t something a best friend would do. Combining that with the absolutely uncanny difference in noise between the door being open and shut, she felt it was a better idea to stick around—in the best interest of her company, of course. As such, she found herself jumping right into the thick of it, waving from behind the two Jins until Chuu noticed.

“Hiii,” she said, slipping into her best valley-girl impression—the one that was reserved only for special occasions, as per her Gemini specialty. “I’m Yerim.”

 _I’m such a good friend_. 

The copper-headed girl froze, and the rest of them followed suit.

“No, you’re perfect.” _Uhm._ “Pretty guests are my _favorite_.”

Brought forward and ushered in with the energy of a thousand delicate suns, Yerim didn’t get a chance to appreciate the marble floors and white walls that ruled over equally modern furniture as she passed by in hurried strides, the rhythmic thump of a strong bassline and not-so-distant chatter penetrating bareboned architecture to tell her that she might’ve spoken too soon about the event’s liveliness. 

Leading the pack, she stole a worried glance back at Hyunjin to find the girl holding both thumbs up in silent encouragement, wherein she soon realized that the promise of a crowd didn’t necessarily include the people she came with at all, and that this might’ve been her friend’s plan from the start. Put simply, this was the beginning of a no holds barred lesson in loosening up by way of exposure to walking conduits of youthful force and a certain Hyejoo Son who, through divinity or curse, still wasn’t anywhere to be seen; although it would be more accurate to say Yerim had no clue if the girl was here to begin with, let alone hiding in the sea of highschoolers that were getting a bit too close for her liking.

“Actually,” Chuu stopped in her tracks to look at Heejin. “How about you two go ahead and have some without us? We’ll catch up later.” She gave Yerim’s shoulder a light squeeze. “I’ll bring her back in one piece, of course.”

_I don’t remember agreeing—_

“Sounds good to me.” Hyunjin didn’t think twice about the offer before her arm found its way around Heejin’s waist, eliciting a flirty giggle. “Feel free to take your time.

“Oh, the things I do for pretty girls.” Chuu shook her head as she watched the couple leave. 

It wasn’t every day that she’d let Heejin get away without a fight, but alas, there were more important things to attend to, such as her hostly duties of keeping a vibe for any and all of her guests. This included Yerim, of course, but for a reason more private than most.

“Anyways, we have something to talk about,” she started, fanning herself as she pulled a flask from her back pocket and held it out for the other girl to take, “but before we get into that, have a little bit of this.”

Yerim, like any normal person, cocked an eyebrow at the offer.

“Uh, I think I’m okay for now.” _This is getting weird._

“Honey,” Chuu took a decent pull to prove her innocence. “I insist.”

“Maybe if you tell me what’s going on first?” 

The host sighed. “It’s really not a big deal but basically, your scumbag ex might be here tonight and I, your new best friend, just wanted to give you a heads up before anything messy happens. That’s it. That’s all. We’re here; we’re queer. So… drink?”

Yerim’s pensive nod spelled the worst for them, in that it showed how _un_ prepared she was for a chance meeting with Mister Three-years-wasted himself after all the effort she put into cutting him off.

“Drink,” she replied, giving Chuu a reason to smile again.

Yerim took the flask and held it just shy of her mouth, allowing a bitter stench to flood her senses to the point where she’d rather gag than let it stay there.

“Eugh, what’s in this?”

“Oh, just some absinthe and sugar.”

 _Absinthe?_ It even sounded like poison. _I don’t want this stuff inside of me,_ she wanted to say, but one good at Chuu’s expectant face was enough to convince her that it couldn’t be as bad as it smelled. 

“Fuck it,” she said, closing off her nose to help the taste of a long swig; and to her surprise, it was good. 

Until it wasn’t.

The searing kicked in as the liquor trickled past her tongue, sending her right into a coughing fit worse than that one time Hyunjin tried drinking water through a paper towel roll. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Let it all out, love.” Bit by bit, Chuu’s soothing back massage helped Yerim cross back into the realm of the living. “See, wasn’t that fun?”

 _Fun?_ Yerim lamented. There was no way that the girl next to her was completely sane, but she also wasn’t in the position to judge a person about questionable life decisions. 

“I think... I need a minute to freshen up.”

“Yeah? We got a bathroom right over there, I can go with—”

“Nonononono, it’s okay. You should probably get back to Heejin anyways; Hyunjin _really_ likes to show off when other people are around.”

Chuu’s eyes grew larger than what was possible for most humans. _You’re so right,_ they said, and Yerim knew she was in the clear. “I knew I could count on you, bestie.” She fake-wiped a tear away. “Don’t take too long now. Oh, and you can keep the flask. Mwah.”

Yerim waved as youth incarnate skipped away to a beat, leaving her to find the restroom on her own. Though, that was more easily said than done with how the house was laid out. _God, we really should eat the rich,_ she thought, semi-repulsed by the aftertaste of alcohol still on her tongue. Starting in the direction Chuu pointed in before she left, it didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for. 

“What a mess,” she sighed, locking the door before facing her reflection that, for some reason, made her cringe despite looking more or less the same as when she’d left Heejin’s. “What am I even doing here?”

The answer was obvious, but she decided not to name it in fear of giving herself more reason to panic. Instead, she found comfort in running the faucet at its strongest, watching blankly as hot mist billowed out to overtake the pale shade posing as her reflection. As to why, the reason was simple, really: what she couldn’t see, couldn’t scare her. Well, not enough where she’d need to acknowledge it. Slapping her wits together for one last hurrah on the battlefield, it wasn’t long before darkness and noisy pop surrounded her once again. 

_I’ll be fine_.

The usual reassurances reprised their role in her mind as she ambled towards the living room, but as if the very notion of okayness itself invited trouble, so came the complication of an unmistakable silhouette standing in the distance to catch her eye; and in the split second it took for her to recognize that person as Hyejoo, she also saw a much shorter—and arguably cuter—girl wrapped in her arms, the dim refraction of a setting sun against contemporary skylights revealing a blush that could put an apple to shame. 

“Hyejoo...”

The small girl’s giggle struck Yerim’s heart like lightning to a rod, making her weak in the knees with feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt—the loveliest combination one could ever hope for on a night out. 

_Ah, I hate this_.

Two, maybe three seconds passed before the will to move graced her legs again, bringing her that much closer to peace as she shed the weight of her woes in one push towards the living room, covering her face all the way so as to slip by unnoticed. It wasn’t until she passed them in full that she felt her thumping heart still itself, and even further yet that she went against all logic to lake one last look at Hyejoo for longing’s sake; which was something she’d quickly learn to regret after meeting the taller girl’s gaze for the first time in days. Sweet and unsuspecting as they seemed, Yerim knew that staying for them would bring more harm to herself than good.

So she didn’t, and sought peace in anonymity as the crowd accepted her without hesitation—far and away from where Hyejoo could hope to see. And maybe, just maybe, it was for the best. However, as much as she wanted to convince herself that this was the end, there were plenty of things still vying to make her think otherwise. Things like the memory of supple lips resting comfortably on hers. Things like the delicate hand that wrapped around her wrist just as she left the mosh. Soft in embrace, yet firm in meaning, Yerim bit her lower lip at the thought of having to turn around to face the best and worst thing of her night.

“Got somewhere to be?” Hyejoo asked in her usual tone; cool, composed, dispassionate. Everything Yerim wasn’t.

“Outside, for some fresh air.”

“Sounds nice, I’ll go with you.”

 _Don’t_ , she wanted to say, but considering how she couldn’t even look a girl in the eye, any chance for that was dead in the water. The complete lack of a response also worked against Yerim in that Hyejoo had taken the lead before long, persuading her to follow like she always did—and always would, like the fool she was. Sights trained on the ground, marble soon transitioned into stone as they traded the main attraction for a quieter backyard, the tangerine warmth of a near-summer night enveloping them in their drift towards poolside furniture that couldn’t have been worth anything less than a whole year of college tuition for most people. It was Hyejoo that took a seat first, unphased by the grandeur, and Yerim might’ve done the same if she wasn’t captivated by the sun’s half-hidden, but gentle glamour peeking from behind the taller girl. 

_Pretty_.

“I didn’t know you liked standing _that_ much.”

Hyejoo’s quip brought Yerim’s attention back to the ground.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking about stuff,” she admitted, careful not to let Hyejoo onto what she knew.

“Is it something I can help with?”

“No, not really.”

“I’m okay with listening too. Everyone needs a good vent sesh.”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure, because—”

“Hyejoo, I said no.” The last syllable trembled as Yerim’s hands shot up to hide her face, but that was all they could do. Tired, ashamed, embarrassed, the apologies she wanted to offer were all caught somewhere in the middle of her throat and the real world. Yet, even in distress, she could never raise her voice against Hyejoo. Not to the girl who showed her the truest sweetness she’d ever known, fraudulent or otherwise.

“Hey.” She first tensed at the sound of a scooting chair, then at the feeling of warm palms over her fingers. “What’s wrong?” 

The silence that fell between them lasted for minutes, interrupted only by a movement that saw the taller girl's hands vanish, taking the comfort it had brought along with it. 

“Okay, I get it. Wait here.” 

_Wait—what?_

The vague instruction caused Yerim to wrench her hands away from the mid-air hover they previously occupied, her equilibrium spun in a feeling that she knew all too well. It told her to move, to get up and follow close behind—to throw caution to the wind and say ‘fuck it’, just as she had done with the flask sitting snug in her back pocket.

But alas, burdened by an inexplicable powerlessness to stop what was already in motion, the crestfallen girl did none of the above. Left all by her lonesome, she watched as Hyejoo ducked into the sea of bodies that had spilled into the backyard, weaving through thick and thin until she had, for better or worse, retreated from her line of sight altogether. 

It wasn’t all too soon before regret began to pool in the depths of her stomach, twisting and gnawing away at her from the inside out. The wretched feeling only intensified as time went on, and it was all she could do to ask herself, _should I have just gone with her?_

  
  


* * *

Close to half an hour had passed with the question still being unanswered, hanging uselessly in the air as if it expected nothing less. Yerim worried at her lower lip and, more than anything, found herself wishing for Hyejoo’s steady presence once more—not to talk, or even listen, but to simply just… be with her. 

The startling realization most definitely warranted a sip or two from Chuu’s flask of homebrewed lethality, and Yerim might’ve very well complied if it weren’t for the strangely helium-addled voice that floated into her ear. 

“Concussion Girl?”

“Excuse me?”

“From soccer. Isn’t that you?”

“I have a name, you know. It’s Yer—”

“Oh my god, so it _is_ you! That’s crazy. Like, no kidding. I’m Chaewon, by the way, if you don’t remember.” The blonde took a sip from her red solo cup. “So I just saw Hyejoo on the way out. Are you guys dating?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Getting big ‘no’ vibes from over there. Let me save you some trouble, then: don’t even try. She already likes someone else, if you didn’t know.” 

“I… didn’t.” _It’s you, right?_

“Yeah, me neither. I forgot Miss Perfect’s name already, but Hyejoo literally wouldn’t stop talking about her earlier, it was so annoying. Like, isn’t it common sense to _not_ go off about another girl when there’s a pretty one trying to flirt with you? Ugh.”

The rhetorical question earned a slight nod from the brunette, who was all but stumped by the sudden change in narrative. _It’s_ not _you?_

“And that’s not even the worst part. I pretty much had to beg a bitch to hug before she ran off. _Me._ A _hug!_ What a fucking headache.” Chaewon stopped to blow an imaginary strand of hair from her face. “Guess she really is whipped for that Yerim chick after all.”

 _Who—_

The chick in question didn’t get the chance to finish her thought before Tinker Bell Prime whipped around to look at the door.

“Oop, looks like I gotta get going now. See ya around, babes.” She winked. Then, light like the wind, she was gone within seconds; and what came to replace her was none other than Hyejoo Son in the flesh, smiling as if all was right in the world. 

“You actually waited.”

Yerim gave a shy nod in response as the other girl took a knee in front of her.

“And I thought I was good at surprises. So… are you good to go?”

“Go where?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say I know a spot.”

Caught in a riptide of confidence and charm, any protest she would’ve offered was crushed by the tender tug at her forearm hoisting her upright—one more among the many that she’d experienced from their roller rink’ ‘date’ just a week before. Yet, after having gone through the motions before, Yerim was more than qualified to match the tempo now. It was just a matter of whether or not she still wanted to stay under the other girl’s spell, but the answer was already clear by the time Hyejoo’s hand had snaked around her waist.

With Chaewon’s words ringing fresh on the mind, it couldn’t have been anything less than a resounding _Yes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [click here to obtain The Vibe.](https://open.spotify.com/track/5itKWQMo9SnYm0uXKpxYzz?si=VMtQ-QwlRaWXFj9CBcTzLw)
> 
> been a while, yeah? hehe. honestly idk what to think about this chapter but we're already here, so I hope yall can enjoy it in some capacity. would still love to hear your thoughts though :]  
> but yes, THE FINALE 💔💔💔 is coming and i hope you're anticipating it like i am. if this chapter didn't take care of the hyerim itch then do not worry because the next one definitely will. and if it doesn't, you can totally demand that i write something else for the nation and her girlfriend. it's only fair <3 
> 
> [other WIP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuosol/works)  
> @commedesgowons on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commedesgowons) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/commedesgowons)  
> say hi :]


	4. fall again

Lost in the taller girl’s touch, Yerim had no mind to make sense of the world as Hyejoo led her back into the fold with complete disregard of everyone else around them. And while she wasn’t the paragon of all things good and queer, there was little to say about her mental state that hadn’t been made obvious by the almost indistinguishable tremble present in each step she took while being held at the waist. However, if there was one thing she understood about how the rest of their night would go, it was that neither step nor purpose belonged to her alone anymore.

Yet, in taking the time to look at her classmate’s face which was now painted in an amorous amber by the fleeing trails of sunset’s end, she couldn’t find a single reason to complain about the arrangement as it went on, nor did she feel the desire to. Because as it stood, the discomfort she held onto not even twenty minutes prior had all but disappeared like the fine hours of their evening, and the last thing she wanted to do was ignite that maladapted flame yet again.

In the end, all that remained of her warped feelings was the reason Hyejoo’s apparent deception even mattered to begin with, which was a developed, or some would say thriving, fondness in all things related to Her. 

Or perhaps there was something more to it?

Elusivity aside, the question was only afforded by the time she spared for the object of her infatuation. While well spent, those seconds didn’t do her any favors in navigating through the horde of students barring their path, but the fact that she was on her way out with Hyejoo Son did. 

Easy on the eyes as she might’ve been, there was much more to say about the girl’s aura than they had time for; and as if it was ingrained in some sort of social contract, almost half of the people they saw were willing to make way without a fuss. The other half were subject to “rougher” treatment ranging from a light push to a purposeful shove, with said roughness being left to the sole discretion of its arbiter who, as per usual, couldn’t give any less of a fuck. 

And to its immediate effect, solace came to them at the intersection between mob and home, where breaking away from everyone else also meant finding each other a little closer than before—though not close enough for Yerim to be concerned about any prying eyes, if she still cared at all.

“You don’t need to grab anything, right?” Hyejoo asked as they closed in on the exit.

“No, I’m fine.” 

“What about a jacket?”

“It’s...” _in Hyunjin’s car_ , “It’s okay.”

A thoughtful hum was all Yerim received as the hand at her side fell away without warning and risked welcoming disappointment, but before it could take hold to inform her next complaint, the unexpected weight and warmth of leather on her shoulders did well to crush any lingering worries regardless of where they hid, full stop.

“Yeah, I guess it is now,” Hyejoo said, pushing her classmate’s hair back to reveal a slight pout. “But just so we’re clear, you don’t get to take this one home tonight.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Hm? I can only imagine what you _do_ dream about, then.”

Thinly pursed lips and rose red cheeks implicating her more than words ever could, Yerim might've been branded guilty in any other situation if the blessing of shade wasn’t there to help her feign an otherwise impossible ignorance. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Holding her head high in defiance, it wasn’t long before she realized the act wasn’t worth the imminent fall and decided to embrace something more practical; however, at the same time, Chuu’s prophetic promise of bad things ahead had finally manifested itself into play and locked her into a total body shutdown on the spot—something which Hyejoo caught onto immediately, but didn’t fully register until she also laid eyes on the proximate cause of both of their problems.

Terrible, unremorseful, and disgustingly overconfident as always, standing near the entrance was Three-Years-Wasted himself chatting away with someone Yerim barely knew as an old classmate but felt sorry for all the same. 

While it was true that lick of affection she had for the leech was long gone by the time she even any of them foot in the house, there was a distinct difference between being able to consciously articulate distaste versus having the mental brawn to divorce someone from her concept of self-worth; and in perfecting the former as a craft, progress on the latter was better off considered snuffed in favor of stoking the coals of a new flame by the name of Hyejoo Son: the walking, breathing embodiment of those same goals and desires. 

Suffice it to say, she was “over it”, but not _over it_ over it, and simply being reminded of her shortcomings invited more complications than opportunity for growth. At least, that’s what Yerim was set to realize before she saw her classmate moving forward unprovoked.

“Yo,” _What’s she—_ “doing alright, dickhead?”

“Huh?” Caught unaware, the boy faced Hyejoo to have his drink swiped and dangled overhead; and in the second it took for him to grasp what was about to happen, Miss Son went ahead and fulfilled her unspoken promise to him and anyone else who bothered tuning in for the little show.

The quick confrontation sent a chill through Yerim’s spine as blood drained from her face, but even in her shock, she couldn’t deny the acute sense of satisfaction that stemmed from seeing someone else put her feelings into action. The only problem was figuring out what would come next, but it seemed like Hyejoo had already hashed together some semblance of a plan before going in for the unsuspecting kill. Slotting her hand around the usual spot on Yerim’s wrist, she briskly stormed towards the exit with the shorter girl in tow. The very girl who, if questioned right then and there, wouldn’t have been able to describe what she had witnessed in its entirety.

Without bothering to take another look at the beautiful mess on display, the duo left Chuu’s not-so-humble abode with nothing but escape in their mind. Pumped on adrenaline, Yerim clutched at the jacket resting on her shoulders as they made off into night, unhindered by the weight of a functionless memory. Staring at the girl’s back, she could only come to two words that would be able to carry her feelings in their whole breadth, no matter their simplicity.

 _Thank you_ , she thought.

_Thank you, Hyejoo._

* * *

With her heart fluttering faster than her legs could move, Yerim stayed quiet during their whole trek through the hauntingly serene neighborhood. It wasn’t until they chanced upon a “shortcut” by way of a nearby grove that Hyejoo slowed their pace and, at the end of their makeshift path, sighed in relief when she spied an old Camaro parked on the roadside.

“Well,” she said, whipping around to face her partner in crime. “Looks like we found it.” 

“ _Found?_ ”

This was the first time Hyejoo ever came across as anything less than well-put together, and they both knew it. “We were lost?” 

“Mm, not exactly. Let just say… temporarily off track?” the taller girl flashed a grin. “C'mon, hop in.”

_Hop… in?_

A flash of cold washed over Yerim as she finally recognized the car as Hyejoo’s, thus helping her come to the conclusion that they were going for more than just a cute little walk in a nearby park like she believed. 

“Right.” An assured smile did its best to hide her nervousness. “Okay.”

The girl moved in time with the crunch of asphalt beneath her feet as natural progression took her to the passenger side where, whether by sheer coincidence or the folly of her own subconscious motives, she shared one last look with Hyejoo before entering. Though, it was more like a quick take on her end, considering how fast she sank into the seat after finding her classmate doing the same thing, albeit with less discretion.

“I didn’t know you drove,” she commented, remembering how they always arrived or departed separately. Most people would have given anything to ride with their crush, but it didn’t seem like Hyejoo felt motivated by said desire as much as a certain Choi would’ve liked.

“I don’t, normally. Unless I’m helping out with the cafe.” Hyejoo took a seat as Yerim buckled in. “This is Sooyoung’s car.”

“Your sister’s? She lets you borrow it whenever?”

“Only when she doesn’t know about it.” 

Yerim’s mouth rounded out to give the other girl a reason to chuckle. That dashing confidence, now well paired with the clean roar of tempered metal and automatic locks, did well to set the mood for their ride; and suffice it to say that despite the bravado, one of them wasn’t prepared in the slightest. Not when she finally regained her senses, anyhow. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” said Hyejoo, adding on to the steadily growing, but unmistakably large list of reasons Yerim would never know peace with her around. “How about you?”

* * *

  
  


Ninety-seven.

In the time it took for ninety-seven streetlights to pass, only one word had been spoken between the party deserters. Though, if honesty permitted it, the blame wasn’t theirs as much as it was on the little CD that spun a mood to make it possible. There was just something about the power of acoustics and a sweet voice that anyone could appreciate, and with the disc being so aptly titled as _vibes_ , it seemed that Sooyoung had the same idea.

Who would’ve guessed that hags had taste?

That aside, a quick glance at Hyejoo told Yerim all she needed to know. The other girl was enjoying herself, and while Yerim should’ve been disappointed in the lack of banter, seeing the literal woman of her dreams—for the last two weeks, at least—at her most tranquil was rewarding in its own. There had also managed to avoid a minor dilemma in that, even if Hyejoo had decided to chat her up, there was no telling how long she could keep the facade of a calm, collected, and witty woman all the while. Nevermind that this very image had been compromised by what happened at Chuu’s already, it mattered even less with the change in pace.

Still, this wasn’t to say she was all that comfortable with longer rifts in conversation; because if there was anything she learned from the last two years, silence often acquainted itself with distance. For her, it was the siren call of a dying relationship, even if only in the context of “love” gone stale; and regardless of how her her the past and present didn’t overlap in the least, there was still some difficulty in being able to separate them that Yerim hadn’t adjusted to quite yet.

That being said, it definitely fed into the development of an unfortunate dependency on sneaking a short pull or two from the flask that Miss Eccentric had so graciously parted unto her, as she opted to sooth her nerves through intoxication rather than confrontation. It was a classic move for the ages, and one that she might’ve regretted, had the cool conditioning of their ride not mixed so well with the flush of six sips over the edge. By the fourth Hail Mary, Yerim started to think that maybe her absinthe bomb had a point, and that burn and bitterness came second to coping. 

Being that the other girl’s attention hadn’t left the road this whole time, she hoped that Hyejoo was none the wiser about anything happening beside her. Holed up with the jacket and a bit too much confidence in the act, Yerim tried to slip the flask back into her pocket. Yet through no fault of her own—or perhaps it was half, considering the creeping numbness—a sharp turn and the severe lack of light lent to a slight miscalculation, missing the mark by a hair to land with a sharp _thud_ against metal and plastic alike as it rolled to her feet. 

_Fuckfuck—_

“We’re here,” she heard, feeling the car sway in time with the brake.

“Wha-wha? _”_ Yerim slurred.

Presumably still oblivious to everything, Hyejoo offered a small smile through the moonlight, but oh did it cause the other girl’s heart to skip a beat. She paid the gawking no mind and pointed forward, to which Yerim followed the slender fingers to find something wonderful. 

Welcomed by nothing else but the moon, they were parked just meters away from the quaint entrance of an off-road grove, and shortly beyond that was the beginnings of what looked like a clearing. 

_Where are we?_ she thought, although the more appropriate question should’ve been, _when did I stop counting lights?_

Regardless of the answer, they were a decent way from any city road that she wouldn’t have been able to recognize anything if she tried. Which, oddly enough, thrilled her more than the opposite. It was a subtle reminder of the times where she was more adventurous; the better times where she didn’t cower in fear of herself, let alone other things. 

“Wow, Hyejoo,” she started again as she heard a door open.

“It looks even better over there,” Hyejoo said as she walked to the opposite side, going through the trouble of helping Yerim out by hand. “Trust me.”

Yerim stumbled in her attempt to balance on the hill, but almost like it had been scripted by a higher power, there was already an arm available to latch onto. And so she did, firm and snug, standing upright to catch Hyejoo’s amused expression which, at that point, gave her more reason to burn up than the alcohol ever did. Ignoring that surefire blush to the best of her ability, she was spared a moment of rest before Hyejoo started towards the clearing on an unmarked path.

Shrouded by night once more, what would’ve been an eerie trek on its own quickly became something more pleasant with Yerim having to hold onto loose giggles while the leafy undergrowth tickled and brushed against her legs. She wasn’t a stranger to midnight walks, no, but they were typically reserved for Hyunjin only. If not for the fact that her ex never would have offered to do the same, then entirely for the added bonus of being with the one person she was okay being vulnerable around. 

That was to say, while her best friend didn’t mince words, what she lacked in sensibility was made up for through attentive listening—the latter being something that Yerim was the last to benefit from as the eldest child for an otherwise loving family. And for the two to be a block apart with a local park for their personal use, it was always bound to be like this. However, none of that prepared her for what was happening _now_ , which could’ve lovingly been referred to as her first woodland escapade. 

A victim of her own poor judgement, the one downside to any of this was not being sober enough to enjoy it in full, considering how it took the last of her wits working overtime to keep herself standing upright. Because if there was one thing she understood, it was that one misstep would’ve spelled the end of their sortie, and she wasn’t about to let the night be spoiled because of her regrets involving a man. 

“Watch your step,” she barely heard Hyejoo caution, and surely enough, the warning did its job in helping her avoid a half-hidden snag. _Hello? Are you reading my mind?_

“Thanks.” _Again._

Yerim felt a reassuring squeeze on her arm as Hyejoo took to the front, acting like a personal scout—or bodyguard, should her mind choose to embrace the fan favorite trope. She was beginning to think that if princeliness was a virtue, Hyejoo had all but earned her position as an archangel in the faith of Subtle Allure; and oh, was Yerim keen on exploring the meaning of reverence. 

_Jeez, what am I even saying—_

The girl’s thoughts were cut short as their ascent up a small hill came to an end, opening into what her suburbian brain could only describe as, well, everything. Dusk spared no expense in regaling the field with beauty as spring-grown wildflowers everywhere basked in its ethereal afterglow, breathtaking as it was mystical in how the muted burn of yellow tenderly wrapped around the trillium like a goodnight embrace. 

Sudden was the transition from foliage to flowers, though not unearned nor unwelcome. Yerim’s jaw hung in awe as her personal wonderland accepted them with open arms, once again tickling her ankles with a sweetness she couldn’t have known with sticks and leaves of prior departure.

Blood pumping, heart pulsing, head pounding, Yerim ignored the signs of imminent shutdown to unhook herself from Hyejoo and race ahead like a sheltered princess experiencing true freedom for the first time. A giddy squeal pierced the crisp air as she frolicked along to a tune that only she could hear; and while she might’ve felt guilty for tampling on the blossoms of a natural flower patch, there was some comfort in seeing them surround her on all sides, as well as in knowing that selfishness was something everyone was allowed every once in a while. 

Her world swirled at a pace slower than the rest of her body, and before she knew it, a mess of green and darkness had replaced the sky. A minute passed as her vision readjusted to the far-off thicket, unable to make sense of up and down—perhaps entirely due to how she had been laid flat on the field, chest pressed to land after a series of poorly caught stumbles. 

“Having fun without me?” Hyejoo said, voice almost as cool as the dew at Yerim’s cheek.

“You’re too slow,” the other girl giggled. 

“Big words from someone who’s planted on the ground.” Although she couldn’t see Hyejoo’s face, the girl was most definitely wearing the usual smirk. Following that, the stems which took up so much of her vision seemed to shift along with the verbal jab. “So how much did you have in the car?”

“Guess.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Hyejoo crouched beside her. “Too much effort.”

Yerim felt a flash of disappointment at her classmate’s unwillingness to play along, but just as fast as the feeling had gone, an odd mix of bitterness and blind confidence arrived in its place; and so came the urge to try Hyejoo at her own game for once. Stirred by nothing but the desire to see smugness undone, Yerim used the rest of what little strength she could control to tackle the other girl down.

“So I’m not worth the effort?” she asked, but her expectations of being met head-on with the same tenacity came short as the strangest thing unraveled before her eyes.

Pinned against flowers by someone who could barely keep her head upright, Hyejoo wasn’t able to hold contact for more than a second as Yerim hovered above her. Even stranger yet, time seemed to stall itself while her lower lip slid under her teeth, eyelids fluttering at the development of something… new. 

“I never said that,” she said. “You are. And you always will be.”

_Oh._

A tender breeze broke against Yerim’s back as her vision blurred and naturally drifted down to the triangle-shaped lips she had become so infatuated with. The way they moved; the way they felt; everything had been burned into her thoughts since that one night, however many days ago it was. And here they were again, barely a hand’s length away from each other but somehow still far away all the same.

 _Hyejoo…_ she thought while a familiar warmth overtook her senses, bringing dizziness where reason should have reigned. Compelled beyond purpose, Yerim attempted to close the distance between them before a hand stopped her descent, pressing soft against her chest as the straddle she had was reversed with little work. That which should’ve been her victory was turned on its head, as she now faced the stars instead of the girl who had driven her near the point of no return.

“We can do that later. You’re missing out on all the good stuff right now.”

 _Wha…?_ Though confused at first, she caught on to what the other girl was trying to say even through the heat and haziness that racked her senses.

“The moon,” Hyejoo started, and Yerim could’ve sworn that the other girl’s gaze had fallen on her at the same time. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Silence followed the observation, but unlike before, Yerim was more willing to bide her time in the present. The worst of it was just a growing weight at her eyelids that, for all intents and purposes, was the rightful consequence of her own actions.

“Yeah,” she hummed without looking away from nighttime’s greatest gift. “It is.”

Grounded by the earth at her fingertips, Yerim smiled in content as she translated Hyejoo’s words into something a little more modern. _I like you_ , it meant, and while she would’ve liked to respond in kind, the warmth which emboldened her not long ago had now given rise to a persuasive drowsiness. 

Falling, falling, falling ever deeper to her body’s desires, she only thought to shamelessly confirm what should have been admitted from the start. 

_I like you too._

* * *

Consciousness returned to Yerim like a stroke of divine providence as she woke up in a sweaty, cotton-mouthed stupor. Though not quite free of the absinthic chains that bound her, the overwhelming want for a bath or functional detox of any kind served as proof that the brew-fueled world of abstracts had yet to claim her in full; which was more than likely just a product of dumb luck than anything else, but at least it meant she had avoided the terror of a Saturday hangover—if it was even Saturday to begin with.

Regardless, between the grumbles and half-hearted prayers for deliverance, the one thing she could latch onto in tentative resurrection was a plushness she had become well acquainted with over the years, and eventually came to love as Gudetama—prized pillow and confidant extraordinaire—at her palms.

_… Tama?_

Weren’t pillows supposed to stay in the same room they were left in?

Like the start of most schooldays, Yerim went through the slow and agonizing process of opening her eyes after well-deserved rest that, due to commitment issues, ended in failure for the better half of five minutes. 

However, maybe after the tenth or eleventh attempt, one of them had slowly crept open to be greeted by post-evening darkness, save for whatever spare moonlight still leaked through a window that was undoubtedly hers, old stickers and scattered hair ties on the sill considered.

She was home. Not just that, she was tucked and ready for bed, albeit still in the outfit she left with. 

Given that the setup was nothing short of perfect for anyone to drift back into sleep, she would’ve easily listened to the call of slumber if a certain silhouette hadn’t cropped up in her peripheral view.

“Hyejoo?” she asked. There was a small pause as her mental cogs shifted back into gear. 

“Rise and shine,” Hyejoo joked with a whisper, and before long, the kind silhouette she had focused on was crouched at her bedside; this time with a very pretty, blemish-free face to accompany it. 

“How… My room?”

“Hyunjin.”

Yerim’s brow bunched at the name, but for the sake of her own repose, she let it fly unaddressed. As for whether that meant the dubious duo were justified in sneaking a sleeping girl back into her own house, there weren’t any witnesses to say.

“Where is she?”

“Outside, I think. Said something about finally understanding what it means to be a third wheel.” 

A sigh escaped her lips as she thought back on the countless hours she spent with the Jins, single as all hell in the middle of their inadvertent but frequent flirting sessions. 

“About time.” 

"Oh, so she _was_ a third wheel?” Hyejoo hummed in amusement, to which the implication made her classmate look away. “Anyway,” she continued, propping herself on one knee. “You should get back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

Seeing the other girl stand, Yerim’s breath hitched as instinct guided her hand from under the duvet and onto the fringe of her classmate’s recently reclaimed jacket in a grip so weak that any movement would have broken their connection with ease. 

Eyes trailing upwards all the while, it didn’t take long for her to find Hyejoo’s through the thin shroud that concealed everything else, the wishful expression on her face asking for something better than _we’ll talk later_. Because at heart, she needed something she could hold on to for the night, if not forever. 

And Hyejoo, being ever-so-sensitive to a certain Choi’s wants and needs, didn’t miss a single beat as she obliged to the silent plea without protest. Lowering back to nightstand height as though nothing happened, she sat and waited. 

For what? Nobody would ever know but her. 

One, two, three; three seconds was all Yerim could spare in patience before she gave into the idea of paradise and leaned forward, wherein it took no time at all to be reunited with the velveteen touch of Hyejoo’s lips. Reenacting the past in both method and feeling, the sensation was just like she remembered: perfect in every regard, and absolutely worth the wait. 

_This_ , she thought, _could be my Forever._

It was just a shame that as she got comfortable, so came the separation she learned to dread over time.

“Goodnight,” she heard Hyejoo say while pulling away, but to both of their surprise, her grip on the jacket was still there—and as it should be mentioned, stronger than before.

“Hyejoo...” In refusing to let go, Yerim made things a bit more obvious than they needed to be by tugging the other girl’s sleeve, her careful shifting and endless efforts being paid off in the necessary bedspace for two. “Don’t make me ask.”

Tensions melting from an overabundance of courage, Yerim watched with unmatched curiosity as the girl in question quieted and offered nothing but a blink in response. Such was the crutch of being the one who flirts, but not frequently flirted with.

“Words are always useful, you know.” Hyejoo eventually murmured as she laid a timid hand on the mattress, only to climb in the next moment with enough reserve to put a prude to shame. 

“Maybe for people that like to hear themselves talk.”

“Thinking about someone in particular?”

Yerim could only smile at the one answer that came to mind.

“Always,” she said, staring into the honey sweet irises that started it all. “And maybe even for good, if you’re nice.”

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this chapter's most played](https://open.spotify.com/track/1SbEt51pN80q1cphFOqIPL?si=U7gOx7RETS6Q2MayFoJtYA)
> 
> my god these bitches gay! good for them.
> 
> anyways hey !!! unless you're following me on twitter as i procrastitweeted, long time no see :)  
> so uh, a lot to say about this one but i’ll keep it short. i’d just like to thank everyone for reading up to here. although this was supposed to just be a style experiment, i can’t stress enough how reading your kind responses over time really gave me the encouragement i needed to finish. 
> 
> all of you are super cute and wonderful and made me want something better for a fic that was never planned aside from like three key scenes. so for that, thank you so much hyerim nation :] you’ll definitely be seeing me in this tag again !!! but maybe not that soon because I have a few other WIPs that need attention (sorry to anyone who is waiting on or even knows about Marginalia)
> 
> even though this chapter took so long to come out because of work, i really hope yall enjoyed the ride despite how short it was. but i wont know if you dont tell me, so get typing 😤 if not here, then i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commedesgowons) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/commedesgowons)  
> too ;) 
> 
> aside from that, tysm again for supporting this fic and me, and thanks hyerim for being such a good fit for each other ❤️😩
> 
> BYE
> 
> [other WIP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuosol/works)  
> 


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